


Little Talks, Big Dreams

by explodingnebulae



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Drabble, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Reflection, Underage Drinking, drunk talks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-30
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-11 09:54:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13521777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/explodingnebulae/pseuds/explodingnebulae
Summary: Vaan and Tomaj are drinking late one night at the Sandsea and Vaan speaks of his impassioned dream to be the world's best sky-pirate.





	Little Talks, Big Dreams

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ridorana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ridorana/gifts).



> LET'S GET THE VAANMAJ BALL ROLLING, SHALL WE? Big shout out to my dealer, Riley, for serving me some choice pairings. I wanted to write something a little less serious and a little more fun, and idk....FFXII related?

“I’m going to be the best sky-pirate Ivalice has ever seen, just you wait Tomaj. One day, I’ll be all you hear about,” Vaan exclaims enthusiastically as he hops atop the bar, bottle of questionable amber liquid in-hand. He’s wanted nothing more in his entire life. Before his parents met their fate to the plague, before Reks was captured and marked traitor, before he got his lips round the bottle he currently shared with his present company, it’s all he ever wanted. 

His early youth had been filled with tales of startling men and women with a swagger in their step and glint in their eye. That glint, no doubt the very one in Vaan’s eyes, was wanderlust in the extreme. These pirates chose to travel by air just as birds and dragons of legend, the ultimate testament to a free life. Freedom, Vaan thought when he would listen to bracing anecdotes of the bold and brash, was something he could not survive without. He’d be a sky-pirate no matter the cost.

Tomaj reaches at his leg to oust him from his makeshift platform but Vaan is quick, even in his intoxicated state, to dodge around his attempts and grants a smug grin before he hops down of his own volition. The bottle is quick to find its way back to Vaan’s lips and he takes another swig. It burns on the way down, but it’s quick to add to the numbness ruminating through his body and he passes the gift of insobriety to his companion, who graciously accepts the offering. 

“You’re already all I hear about, you know that, right? Between Kytes briefing me on all your newest sewer exploits and Migelo asking your whereabouts, I don’t think I’ve gone a day without hearing your name,” Tomaj quips back before taking his drink. It’s clear to Vaan that he’s not as experienced in the way of alcohol, which is surprising given that he owns a bar. His nose crinkles and he gives a shake of his head before setting the bottle on the bar. 

Vaan takes his place on one of the bar stools and wraps his fingers around the bottle protectively. His plants his elbows squarely on the surface of the bar and a smile grows at his lips. Maybe it’s a defense-mechanism, but he can’t help but find amusement in knowing that Tomaj receives all the latest updates and inquiries concerning his person. It’s flattering, in all honesty. That someone tries to keep up with him, even knowing that he can be a flighty fellow at times.

“Admit it, you wouldn’t know what to do if you didn’t hear about me. It would be a pretty _uneVaantful_ life.” His own joke sends him into a fit of laughter and he finds it in his best interest to release his grip of the bottle lest it spill. The liquor might have been cheap but it’s working wonders and he isn’t willing to let this feel-good warmth go to waste.

He can’t tell if Tomaj is laughing out of anger or amusement and he doesn’t really care. The blur caused from the tears edging at his eyes obstructing the off-duty barkeep’s expression. Vaan made him laugh and he’ll take it at face-value every time. It’s become something of habit for them; Vaan says something absurd or cracks an awful joke and Tomaj can’t help because Vaan’s laughing. 

“Just don’t forget about us when you’re soaring through the sky or plundering booty or whatever it is that sky-pirates do,” Tomaj says once their laughter dies down. A sobering thought, that, even if phrased in a way that offended sky-pirates everywhere. The mere inquiry gets his mind reeling and he digs into the idea, nursing the bottle as he thinks in silence.

Migelo, Kytes, Penelo, and Tomaj gave him everything when there was nothing left. They gave him a home and offered solace amidst a crumbling world. Tomaj had been the one to grant him respite in a quickly changing and damnable world. Rabanastre fell quickly to the Empire and Vaan wasted no time in the art of cutting purses. He did what he could to provide for those he cared for, even if it the means were not the best. This often led to Penelo scolding him. Tomaj, however would greet him with a drink and offer silent acceptance, or at the very least tolerance. He knew Pen’s anger came from a justified place, but he found himself unable to process it atop everything else and he had wedged a temporary distance between them every time he resurfaced from his latest endeavor. In that delicate period, Tomaj had slipped in and made himself a comfortable home in Vaan’s being. 

And that’s something Vaan will never be rid of. Tomaj is undoubtedly stuck with him forever, no matter where he ventures, no matter the skies he sails, he could always land in Rabanastre. Tomaj and the Sandsea could be his constant, and he could always add to the bar’s reserves. 

“I don’t think I could ever forget you,” Vaan mutters once he pulls himself from his thoughts. He isn’t aware of the expression crossing Tomaj’s face until he goes to take another drink. The bottle is tilted halfway before it’s returned to its previous location so he can get a better look at the startled look spreading across his companion’s face. “What?”

Tomaj clears his throat before he leans against the bar, fixing his expression in the process, though the telltale signs of inebriation are hard to rid oneself of. He looks to Vaan, eyes bleary from the near half a bottle he drank, and expels a breath of laughter from his nose. “Funny how that feeling’s mutual.”


End file.
